


so what about the answer key

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, Kara - Fandom, Korean Actor RPF, 룸메이트 | Roommate (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, i can't even lol, these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There is nothing more terrifying that two girls sitting you down, with <i>lunch</i>, and uttering the words, "we're staging an intervention!" when they're not really saying it's an intervention but like they're seriously telling you the color of the sky or, more importantly, that your shoes are stupid.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If this were a test, Jackson would fail. Miserably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so what about the answer key

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny request fulfilled for [heoyoungjii](http://heoyoungjii.tumblr.com/). Because I couldn't help myself.

There is nothing more terrifying that two girls sitting you down, with _lunch_ , and uttering the words, "we're staging an intervention!" when they're not really saying it's an intervention but like they're seriously telling you the color of the sky or, more importantly, that your shoes are stupid. Jackson knows it's neither one of these.

It's not weird for him to see Sunny. She takes care of him, doesn't have to (he says), but she never listens (she tells him), and so they've formed this weird sibling relationship that he insanely respects. It's also not weird for Sunny to say "lunch!" and him to go lose his sanity somewhere between, "can it be a little later, wrapping up practice --" or text her with WHEN WHERE ^^~ and realized that he has just. been. _played_. So when she asks him to lunch, he says yes, of course, but not without his reservations and his need to pick up some of her favorite sweets on his way in.

When he sees Hara in the restaurant, he doesn't need to guess what this is about.

"Is _she_ okay?" he blurts, which is stupid, since Hara just laughs and Sunny grins and maybe, well, he's definitely been duped. "I knew she's stressed about the comeback, but is she not --"

Sunny hits his arm. "She's the same," she says, and then gently, "Although this is part of it."

"Part of what?" he asks.

Hara leans forward. 

"You."

He points to himself, blinking. "Me?"

"You," she laughs. "And her. I would talk to her, but --" Hara looks at Sunny, who shrugs. "Well, I already know how she feels about this."

"This?" He is so confused. "Like, break it down for me, okay? Stop trying to speak Youngji, noona."

Both Sunny and Hara burst into laughter and he is totally, _totally_ missing something because well, he doesn't speak GIRL and he DEFINITELY doesn't speak Youngji (although, well, he's sort of good at it, but doesn't understand how since she's the most complicated girl in his life) and Youngji doesn't tell him things like -- well, he doesn't know what this is about.

"You like her," Sunny says slowly.

"Well, yeah."

Hara's mouth twitches. "What eonni means," she says, "is that you like-like her, Jackson. Like you want to secret date Youngji."

"I'm bad at secrets."

Sunny laughs. "True."

"Like," he waves his hands around, "super bad! Awful, really."

"Also true," Sunny quips and Hara just laughs.

"So --"

"So," Sunny says. "It just means that you have to date her. Because clearly you want to."

It's a weird thing hearing. Well, not weird. It's disconnecting. It's like someone is telling him something that he already knows, but he doesn't really know because he hasn't gone and said it out loud. He likes Youngji. He thinks she's the prettiest. She's not conventional. She's bright and it's insanely infectious and when she laughs, it makes him want to keep her that way -- happy. He's clumsy when he thinks about her this way. It's a lot. He has everybody in his life with an opinion, but he never knows what to say _back_ and that belongs to her.

"He's quiet," Sunny says.

"It's an admission," Hara teases.

He shakes his head. "I don't even want to know," he mumbles. His expression changes. "So she's not okay," he says slowly. "And she's --"

"She had a day," Hara tells him. Her expression softens. "There was a lot going on and she's really, really -- almost too good at hiding how she feels about things. She worries about how it makes me feel or the other girls or her parents. I just ... could you talk to her? You could probably get out of her."

Sunny rests her chin on her hand. "It's different for girls," she explains too. "She's probably feeling out of her element and lonely too. The dating thing is just a bonus."

He's quiet, confused, and a little upset because these are things he feels like he should know too. He only sees Youngji at the share house, mostly, and occasionally at her parents' coffee shop because he makes the time to see her and her family. Idiot, he thinks. You should have called me.

Jackson knows he would have been the first one there too.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

So. He has no plan. None. Not even kind of a plan, or something that can _pretend_ to be a plan.

The practice room is at the end of the hall, towards the larger offices, and, well, he was here accidentally once for filming, but it's not like he REMEMBERS and the flowers in his hand are making him really, really, really nervous because everyone is staring at him like he's got four heads, or two heads, or whatever the expression is.

He texts Mark first because this part was his idea. His phone flashes. He leans against the wall and tries to juggle the flowers, his phone, and _not_ listen to the music that is on full blast inside the room.

 

the flowers were a dumb idea i am going to drop them dude

_yo you decided to buy them_

i don't even know if she likes FLOWERS should have bought her a plant 

_i didnt say that you had to go and buy them i said go buy her something PRETTY because shes a really pretty girl and girls like pretty things_

WHATEVER STOP calling her pretty

_JUST GO BUY HER THE DAMN PLANT JACKSON_

i already bought flowers

 

And it's true, he thinks, because he knows that she likes plants, seeing as he saw the episode last week and knows about all the plants in the coffee shop and that she helps Jong Ok-noona with the gardening too. Flowers are a good idea. They're pretty, you know. How can she not like pretty things anyway? She's a _girl_.

His palms are a little sweaty. He feels even more stupid.

 

_why are you worried_

idk sunny-noona and hara-noona and that whole thing 

_well they weren't wrong_

i hate you

_(◕‿◕✿)_

who. are. you.

_(◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿) (◕‿◕✿)_

seriously...

_stop worrying and give her the flowers shes going to like them because she likes you and basically youve both admitted it on TELEVISION and you were really surprised that she didnt say no and even though it was a silly segment thing because youre really bad at not lying lying or being ambiguous YO I HAVE A HEADACHE NOW_

whatever mom

 

He didn't really tell anyone that, that he was expecting her to be sort of ambiguous in her response. She did go and say, "yes, I do LIKE Wang Jackson --" and variations of "I think of him as a man!" or anything else that feels sort of terrifying. It doesn't matter. He reaches for the door and flings it open. The flowers drop from his arm and crash on the flower, the petals smashing into the ground. He curses and the music is loud, fast, and he half-picks the flowers up, half-watches Youngji exploding into a few, fast pace movements. She stops when she sees him in the mirror, faltering, and it's here, then that he actually gets a good look at her and he's more than _sort of_ stunned.

"Uh," he mutters, and she's pretty, flushed, panting, her hair sticking to her cheeks, throat, and neck -- was her neck ever that long, he wonders, and it's just really, really, really weird leaving a type behind and staring at the girl that has suddenly, really, _truly_ become _the_ girl. 

He forgets about the flowers, watching her as she moves and turns the music off. He watches her ponytail flick to the side and her hands immediately move to her t-shirt, twisting as if she were nervous.

"Yah," she mumbles. Her eyes dart around the room. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you flowers."

Youngji laughs, pointing. "They were pretty."

He looks down and the flowers are now _completely_ smashed. He feels really stupid. He leans over, picking up the bouquet and the mess of petals that are caught underneath his feet.

"Mark's idea," he replies.

"Tell Mark-oppa thanks," she says. He grunts and then flushes because he catches that shy, amused smile.

"Ugh." He looks away, rolling his eyes. "Whatever."

Youngji laughs. He looks around the practice room, curious all over again, and finds it just as freakishly neat as he remembers and expects, her bag in the corner with a coffee and her sweatshirt.

"How are you?" he asks, and awkwardly, enough for her to stare at him, wide-eyed. He shuffles forward, picks up the flowers again and tries to rescue a few. He manages three and moves to her bag, tucking them into the strap. He grabs her water bottle.

"Stressed," she admits.

He hands her the water bottle, watching her. "Well --" His mouth purses together. "Comebacks are stressful," he says carefully.

She shakes her head. "I don't really want to talk about it though."

He falters, confused. "That's dumb. Why not?"

"Jackson."

She sighs, moving to the mirrors and then sitting on the floor. Her legs curl and she looks up at him, studying him.

"Because I'll get angry with myself again," she tells him. "And frustrated and just a lot of stupid feelings that I hate feeling because, like, they're so unnecessary --"

"Did someone say anything?" he asks, moving to her. He ignores her protesting and sits right next to her, and close, really close, because he can't help himself. He touches her arm and her mouth twitches. "You have to stop reading the internet, Youngji-ah. It's not healthy. Or was it something else? Do I have to go kick someone's as --"

"Yah," she says. "Don't _even_."

His hands shoot up. "I offered!"

"Nerd."

"Well," he says, "I offered." She laughs and shakes his head. He wishes he brought something to drink with him. "You can't say that I didn't offer."

She rolls her eyes. 

They're quiet and it's awkward and he hates that it's awkward because he thinks a lot and to hear himself think, it makes everything that much more _weird_. He listens to her shift instead, watching her scoot and shift to sit closer to him. His eyes widen and her head just drops again his shoulder. He watches her hair fan out, spill in these weird, loose curls. He doesn't remember her hair being this curly.

"Have you been practicing all day?"

She makes a soft sound. "Basically."

"It looks good," he tells her seriously. "Your moves seem on point. I mean, I don't know the choreography though."

Youngji smiles. "It's actually pretty cool," she says.

She talks him through the routine, a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and he's trying to pinpoint the changes in her voice and the way that she looks at him, coupled with the stuff that Sunny and Hara DID NOT tell him because, you know, girls are freakishly ambiguous too. 

She yawns then, stretching her legs out in front of her. He flicks his fingers against her shoulder.

"So what's going on then?" he asks, and it's unexpected, how serious he suddenly feels. "Sunny-noona --"

Youngji groans. "They took you out to lunch?"

"You knew?"

"I thought they were joking," she mutters. "I told them that I was fine. It was an off day. I missed a few steps. I got burned at the salon --"

"Burned?" he blinks, then leans over, pushing her hair away from her neck. Sure enough, there's a patch of skin flushed pink, almost strangely so. He brushes his fingers against it and she makes a soft sound, her teeth pressing into her lip. "Yikes," he murmurs.

Her voice is husky. "You're telling me." She shrugs too, trying to be nonchalant. "It happens," she says. "I felt really bad because my stylist-eonni was really upset. It kind of set the tone for the day too."

"What else happened?"

She shrugs. "I was off the entire day. I was moody too. I tried to fight through it, but I guess I just wanted to be moody. I wanted to finish the day..."

"Don't be weird," he tells her and her smile is back, her eyes are brighter, and she even laughs a little bit.

"I'm not," she says. "You're the only one that I feel like I can say these things to."

His face is warm. "That's not true," he mumbles, and he looks away because he feels stupid and charmed. "You can talk to a lot of people."

"I know," she says. "But when I talk to you, even though there's no answer, you make me feel I can have one --" she groans, shaking her head. "That's so cheesy, Youngji-ah," she says to herself. "Seriously."

He wants to kiss her, he decides, hands in her hair and skin flushed and warm and sweaty. He can hear her in his head. _That's SO GROSS_ , but it makes her that much more real. It just sort of happens that way, anyway, and he keeps watching her, waiting. There's no drums, no defining moment, no ah HA like this was the build up and all the answers are _here_. He knows he wants to kiss her. It's that kind of feeling that pushes through him; sometimes it's small, sometimes it's sort of large, unearthing itself when he doesn't really expected it. She does a lot of things that makes him want to kiss her, like really kiss her, because she's so ridiculously _pretty_ and doesn't even know it.

That's the allure of her, of Youngji, that's she is so unapologetically honest about who she is and what she wants that it terrifies and fascinates him all the same. He feels a lot older when he looks at her, is _with_ her, and doesn't know how to put the relationship into a place.

The thing is, he listens to himself a lot more now. Problem or not, he can't help himself.

"Hey," he says. "You know what?"

"Hmm?"

She looks up, her eyes fluttering open. His fingers brush over her cheek. He flicks at her nose and she scoffs. It makes him laugh, just a little.

"What?" she says again, biting at her lip, and okay, okay, when she goes and does _that_ , he has to kiss her now and at least, at least it'll be her fault.

"I'm going to do something _really_ stupid and I just wanted to warn you because, on the scale of one to _stupid_ , it goes way past the stupid part," he says and doesn't give her any time to respond, his mouth sliding over hers and muffling her surprised laugh. His mouth opens, hers follows, and he's tasting coffee and chocolate and everything slightly sweet that he can think of. 

His fingers curl around the back of her neck, tugging at her hair. One of them shifts. His hand drags over the plane of her thigh, half-dragging her legs over his lap, he just needs to have her closer, you know. Then her hand moves to his chest and she makes this soft, soft sound that makes him swallow and bite at her lip. She shifts closer and it's really, really stupid that they're doing this here, at her company, but he can't really begin to care about that.

It doesn't matter who breaks back first because his mouth feels softer, wet, and she's watching him, trembling a little and she hits his arm.

"I told you it was stupid," he says, and his voice is low, maybe too low, and her mouth opens with a laugh, all soft and breathy too. 

"I can't believe you kissed me," she says. She sounds dazed. She keeps touching her mouth.

"You should." He flicks her forehead. "It was --"

"If you say easy," she interrupts, "I will _actually_ hit you, Wang Jackson because it really isn't that easy --"

"It so is," he argues. "It's what we make of it."

"Ugh. You sound like a drama boyfriend."

He doesn't know why he says it. "I _could_ be one."

She glares and he glares back, if only because he so TOTALLY see that smile twitching at her mouth. He doesn't know what else to do or say. He just knows that he wants to kiss her, like really kiss, kiss-her-kiss her and that's something that just can't be reconciled. His fingers feel clumsy. 

His feelings explode that way, _this_ way into something that burns slowly, almost painfully, and he feels a little guilty for not thinking about it before. You're really beautiful, he wants to say, should say to her, but this is so inexplicably _real_ right now, he's losing words.

"Come to me," he says instead. He looks away, shy almost. "When you're having a bad day, or a hard time -- just come to me, okay?" He feels a little shaky. "Even if I have to take you on a date."

He looks back at her, leaning forward and brushing his lips against her forehead. He lingers without actually meaning to linger, making it a moment, a longer moment if anything but. He can feel his heart pounding and her hand finds his, her fingers trembling as they curl around his and he thinks _good_ because at least, at least he knows that she is every bit as honest as he feels.

"I mean it," he adds. He tries and clears his throat, looking down at her. His finger curls around a few strands of hair and he tugs lightly. "Nothing is too stupid, okay? Nothing."

The way she looks at him changes; there is a crease in her mouth, half a smile, a little shy, a little serious, almost a mirror of his own expression. There's a lot to say and maybe, it's not the time or the place to say it, maybe it's not the words that matter at the moment. It's decided then anyway.

"Okay," she says. She laughs then. "If it's a date," she says too and her voice is full of promise, real promise, and that nervous expectation is back in him again. And he likes it. "I get to pick where. Because you have no clue," she teases.

His sigh is large and dramatic. "Of course."

Her head moves back to rest against his shoulder. Later, they share the water bottle.

It'll be a funny story to tell anyway.


End file.
